~ Chapter Five ~
The Calm Before The Storm

Jace woke up blinking into the sunlight, thinking immediately of Clary and how her fiery hair would look in the golden rays streaming in through the window. Shaking his head he rolled over and saw that Alec's bed was empty—not unsurprising, as he was usually always awake before him. And then, looking at the watch he'd finally set to Idris time, he groaned. He'd only fallen asleep two hours ago—not nearly enough time to be considered well rested. But then, when was he ever "well rested" these days? Snatching up his stele off the expensive hard liquor nightstand, he flopped on his back and pulled his shirt up; immediately carving the runes of energy and stamina into his abdomen. And then just for good measures, he included the nourishment rune simply because he knew that his eating habits as of late weren't the best.

Lying there and allowing the runes to take effect, he realized that today was the first day since coming to Idris that he didn't have anything to really worry about. Clary was safe in New York and the vampire had been sent back. The tension in his chest seemed to dissipate at the very thought, and he wasn't sure whether he should whoop with laughter or cry with relief. Kicking the blankets off himself, he sat up and stared around the small attic room. It was cozy. Too cozy. And Jace was already feeling restless. He had spent way too long cooped up in the house and he was itching to do something. To get out. He got dressed quickly and bounded out the door.

Flinging himself down the stairs and across the hallway, he stopped hesitantly in front of a shut door. He had barely spoken to the youngest Lightwood since everything had happened . . . except to kick him out of the study yesterday in order to talk to Simon. Jace had seen how hurt Max had been by that, given how much the young boy looked up to him. And now, staring at the shut door, Jace knew exactly what he could do to make it up to him. Knocking softly on Max's bedroom door, he waited. But there was no reply. The boy must have still been sleeping. At least someone came sleep. Shrugging, Jace pushed the door open quietly and took a swift step inside before closing it just as softly behind him.

The room was small, barely fitting the one bed and night stand, and the single window had the curtains drawn, casting the room in shadows. Taking light steps across the hardwood floor, Jace sat on the edge of Max's bed and stared down fondly at the sleeping boy. He was tangled in his blankets, his book resting open on top of him.

"Max."

"Maaaax."

"Pssst."

"MAX!"

"What, who, why?" Max shot up like an arrow, his hair in disarray as he stared around the room blinking away the sleep and knocking his book to the floor. Jace gave a breath of laughter.

"All you're missing is the 'where, when, and how,' kiddo," he said softly, ruffling his little brothers unruly hair. And then reaching toward the nightstand, he plucked a pair of eye glasses up and handed them to the small boy who still seemed to be struggling to wake up.

Taking them and putting them on, Max looked wide eye at Jace. "Is—is something wrong?"

"Nope," said Jace, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. And then his brow furrowed. "Well, that's not completely true. You see, yesterday, I unceremoniously chucked you out of the study, and I wanted to apologize."

Max shrugged before leaning over the side of the bed to pick his book up off the floor. "It's okay," he said when he came back up, trophy in hand. And Jace watched silently as his kid brother found his place in it and dog eared the corner of the page.

Shaking his head, Jace frowned. "No, it's not," he said, his hand darting forward and relieving Max of his book, turning it absently in his fingers. I will never understand Clary's reading preferences. Shaking away the thought, he tossed it on the bed and watched as it landed among the folds of tangled blankets. "Which is why I'm going to make it up to you."

"Makeituptome?" Max yawned, staring in the direction of his book. And then he smiled sheepishly up at Jace. "Sorry. I meant, how are you gonna make up to me?"

"Well, I was thinking . . ." Jace leaned in toward his brother, but made as a show of casting a cautious glance back at the door as his voice took on a low conspiratorial tone. "Maybe we could sneak out. Just me and you."

Max's face lit up. "Really? Just the two of us?"

"Yup," Jace beamed, leaning back. "Not far from here, maybe about thirty minutes outside Alicante, there's a very pretty pond. I haven't been to it since before I came to New York, but it should be safe now."

At that, Max's eyes went even wider. "Safe? Was it not safe before?"

"Not at all," Jace frowned deeply. "It used to have the worst, most vile creatures known to man living there—worse than demons even. Vicious creatures who would take no prisoners if they were capable."

"What were they?" Max asked, his voice a hushed whisper.

"Ducks."

Max blinked, perplexed. "Ducks?"

"Yes," Jace nodded solemnly. "Bird-like monsters, large billed beaks, superior ego complex . . . never trust a duck."

"Ducks . . ."

Jace could see the word sinking in and the smile slowly forming of Max's face. Don't you dare laugh. Don't you do it! You have no idea how horrible—Max began to giggle. "You don't like ducks?"

"And ducks don't like me," Jace said, getting to his feet and stretching. He was strangely okay with Max knowing about his dislike of the terrifyingly foul birds. It was not something he told many people. In fact, Max was the first person he had ever told. Can't have people running around knowing my weaknesses, now can I. And then he turned slowly toward Max. "You can't tell anyone about this, by the way," Jace said, glancing down at his brother. "About my dislike for ducks, I mean. If people found out that I had a weakness . . . it would be anarchy! Pandemonium would break out in the streets. Demons everywhere would get the idea to throw ducks at me—" Jace shuddered, "—and I would be powerless to stop them."

Max was in a full laughing fit now, and Jace smiled at hearing the innocence of the sound. "But they're just ducks!" he wheezed, holding the stitch in his side as he fell over on his bed.

"They are most decidedly not just ducks," Jace disagreed, moving toward the door. "Now, when you're done laughing at me, get dressed. I'll be downstairs waiting." He paused in the doorway and turned back toward his brother. "Oh, and make sure you have a weapon with you. If there are any ducks present, I will have to rely on you to save me for I will most assuredly be immobilized with fear." With that, Jace left to the sound of Max choking on his laughter as he struggled to get out of bed.

Downstairs, Aline was in the kitchen humming to herself as she pulled food out of the fridge. He felt immediately guilty upon seeing her. She was trying so hard to help him get over Clary—not that she knew it was Clary he had to get over. Thank the Angel, Jace thought. That's a whole line of questioning I really don't want to have to answer. But all the same, he knew it wasn't going to work. He had known it back when she had suggested the whole trial relationship to begin with. And now he was going to have to try to let her down gently. At the time, she had said they'd still be friends and there would be no hard feelings. He hoped she meant it.

"Breakfast?" She asked without looking up.

Jace hesitated. His nourishment rune was making him feel full already. "Um, no thanks."

Aline shot up and turned to look at him, her dark eyes wide with surprise. "Oh! I didn't realize it was you."

"Expecting someone else?" he asked curiously, the corner of his lips ticking upward as he leaned casually against the wall.

Aline shook her head and then nodded, her short raven hair falling into her eyes. "Sebastian," she explained. "I thought you were him."

Jace had to keep from scowling at the comparison, and instead schooled his expression into one of bored amusement. "And now that you have realized the severity of your mistake?"

"Severity?" Aline asked, her eyes shining as she crossed the room toward him. What are you doing? "I didn't realize you found the mistake to be such a horrible one." Her lips pulled into a seductively evil grin—one that made Jace uncomfortable, though he didn't move or show it as she came to a stop in front of him. "But then, perhaps it's because Sebastian is my cousin? And obviously, being attracted to someone who is related would be weird, right? Thank the Angel you're not family."

Jace bit the side of his cheek painfully as her hands snaked up his chest, his heart hammering wildly as he thought of Clary. If you think being attracted to someone related would be weird, try being in love with them. He looked down, keeping his face an expressionless mask while at the same time wishing he hadn't backed himself quite literally into a wall. He could really use an escape right now. Aline pressed herself to her toes. "I mean . . . if you were Sebastian, I wouldn't be allowed to do this," she pushed against him, and Jace swallowed, wishing desperately that she wouldn't do that. "And kissing?" She continued. "Well, that would definitely be out."

Aline closed her eyes, her lips parting softly, and Jace stared stupidly at her unsure of what he was supposed to do—though he was pretty sure his eyebrows had left his head with as quickly as they had darted upward. And it wasn't like he didn't know what she wanted him to do . . . he did. It couldn't be more obvious. He just wasn't sure what he should do. On the one hand he was technically allowed to kiss her because, as she had made so painfully clear (whether she knew it or not), they weren't related. But on the other hand . . . she wasn't Clary. And he didn't think he wanted to ever kiss someone who wasn't Clary. Oh dear God, she's gonna wonder why I'm hesitating. Maybe I could fake a seizure.

"I'm ready!"

Aline jumped back, her face flushing as Max walked in. But Jace only looked at his little brother with relief, his pent up breath going out of him like a deflated balloon. Thank you, thank you, thank you, you wonderfully oblivious boy! But he regained his composure quickly as Aline met his eyes—even managing to give her a disappointed grin, like he, too, was devastated at the interruption. "Kids," Jace shrugged, pushing himself off the wall, silently thanking the space between them now. "Always showing up at the most inopportune moments."

At that, Aline tucked her hair back as she gave an embarrassed but pleased smile. The guilt grew heavier in Jace's chest at the lie that she so readily bought, but he shoved it down and ignored it. He knew that he would have to deal with it eventually, but now was not the time. Because I don't want to. He turned to Max, who was staring back and forth between him and Aline curiously. Don't ask. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a black long sleeve shirt pulled over what Jace could tell was a small dagger attached to his belt. All he needed now were his runes and he would look just like Alec with glasses. Jace couldn't hide the real smile from forming at the thought. Only a couple more years and Max would get his first rune. Turning apologetically to Aline, he gestured back to his kid brother. "We're going out today. Some family time."

"Oh!" She said brightly, looking at Max as she pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge and set them on the counter. The flush in her cheeks had returned to normal now. "That sounds like fun!"

"Yep!" Max said excitedly, and then turned to Jace, lifting his shirt to show him the dagger. "And I brought this just in case—" his eyes cast a cautious glance toward Aline, "—you know."

Jace face-palmed as she stared at the two of them dumbfounded. "Your covert skills leave something to be desired," he said, wrapping his arm around Max's shoulders and dragging him playfully toward the back door, snatching their jackets off the coat rack in the process. "Lets go, kiddo. I know what we'll be working on today."

As they left the house, Jace heard Aline laughing and calling out for them to have fun.

Forty minutes later (due to the slower pace they had taken), Jace and Max were moving across a large sprawling stretch of grass that moved away from Alicante. On some level, he knew that if he kept going in this direction, they would reach the his old home. Not that it had ever really been his home. It was the Wayland Manor, and he wasn't a Wayland. The thought made him bitter, but for reasons that had nothing to do with the lie. Shaking his head, he looked at Max. The boy had not complained about the walk once. He had simply stared around Alicante and then the Idris meadows with wide curious eyes.

"Not much further," Jace said and then pointed toward a rise in the ground. "See that hill there? It's on the other side of it."

Max smiled, looking at it and then threw a challenging glance at Jace. "Wanna race?"

"Now Max," Jace grinned, "That would hardly be fair—"

"GO!" Max cried out, laughing as he flew forward. Jace stood there staring, the smile still on his face as he watched his little brother run as fast as his short legs could carry him. Looking at his watch, he decided he'd give the kid another few seconds head start before he'd run after him.

And three . . . two . . . one. Jace ran steadily and without really pushing himself. And He was already gaining on Max, who had looked behind him to see where his big brother was. Never look back . . . it can cause you to—shit!

Max tripped, crying out as he fell ass over feet and disappearing down the other side of the hill. Now Jace really did push himself to run, clearing the hill and racing down it within seconds. Max was lying on his back, his eyes closed and breathing hard. When he looked up again, surprise painted his face. "Whoa," he said, staring up at Jace. "Where'd you come from?"

And Jace frowned. Did you hit your head or something? Maryse would kill him if that were the case. "What do you mean?" he asked with concern, kneeling down gently.

"I mean," Max sat up on his elbows, "I fell, rolled, stopped, blinked, and boom . . . there you were. I could have sworn you were further behind me." Oh. That. The speed thing . . . do I really move that quickly? But even as he thought it, he knew the answer. Jace smiled and shrugged in response as Max got to his feet. "I hope I'm that fast someday." No, you don't. Not like this. And then he frowned down at Jace, who was still kneeling in the grass. "You're not wearing a speed rune are you?"

Jace shook his head. "Not today."

"Good," Max said, stretching and then staring off somewhere past Jace. "Not that it would have helped. I won."

Turning, Jace saw the pond not far from them, looking just as it had when he had been there years before. The water glistened and sparkled under the sun while the emerald trees blew lazily in the soft breeze, the golden sunlight moving greenly through their leaves. And the wild bell-flowers spotted the hillside with their lavender and periwinkle hues; ringing soundlessly under the airs gently touch. Jace stole a glance at his kid brother to see what he thought, and was not disappointed. Max was staring wide eyed and open mouthed at the sight. The awe on his face was endearing.

Hopping lightly to his feet, Jace wiped his hands off on his pants. "So," he said, looking around. "Are you ready for some light training?" And Max stared at him, probably thinking what Jace already knew. Most young Shadowhunters didn't start their training until after they were Marked with their first Rune. But there were those, like me, who started earlier than that. Hell, when he was nine, Jace's father had shown him how to kill a man from behind with a methodically placed blade—not that he would be showing his brother that particular move. "Come on," he said tugging lightly at Max's jacket. "Nothing major . . . just some balancing. This place has a good array of stepping stones to learn on."

Max beamed, looking like all his dreams had come true. "Yeah, okay!"

Near the pond, Jace took off his jacket and began to disarm himself. He made sure to lay his seraph blades down meticulously on his jacket while Max watched silently, before removing his own jacket and unsheathing his own small dagger. Jace smiled as his kid brother tried to smooth his jacket out as carefully as he had, before placing his solitary weapon on it. It really was flattering that Max wanted to be like him. It gave him a sense of belonging even when he felt he didn't belong anywhere. He may not always do everything right, but he knew Max would never judge him or fault him for it. Max just wanted him around.

With his heart swelling, Jace made his way toward the stepping stones, Max close on his heels. "Okay," he said, hoping up onto one of the rocks lightly. "Here's what you do."

And then they trained. They worked on balancing and light-footedness. They worked on ducking and running on uneven terrain. And they laughed. Jace couldn't remember the last time he had laughed like that. Or had fun. Or had just been allowed to let down his guard and be himself for once, without the expectation to be something he wasn't. And Max . . . that kid was like a sponge, absorbing everything Jace showed him and repeating it until the got it correct. He had forgotten how easy it was to be around Max. Later, they would go near the pond and Jace would show him the different wildlife; tadpoles, frogs, fish. It was nice not being surprised by nixies or pixies showing up. Just simple things—squirrel scampering up trees and lizards darting under rocks. And then, at the request of Max, they laid in the soft grass and watched the clouds drift idly by while pointing out shapes that reminded them of things. You know, the usual stuff; like that one there could have been a faerie. And over there, a shax demon.

Rolling on his stomach, Jace laid his head on his arms and peeked out at Max who was pointing out a rune shaped cloud. "Well kiddo," he sighed as the afternoon sun beat down on him, warming his back. "I think it's time to go."

"Really?" Max frowned, pushing himself into a sitting position. "But—" He cut himself off, his eyes going wide as he looked off toward the pond. And then his lips began to tick upward. "Uh oh, don't look now."

This of course, made Jace flip over and look and—son of a bitch! A large—were they really that large?—Mallard had come waddling regally out of a nearby bush. It's head was bobbing around in that grotesque fashion that it did as its creepy beady little eyes fell on Jace. He felt himself tense at the familiarity of the bird; it's shimmering green head completely clashing with its tan and dark brown body, and—seriously, when had ducks gotten that big? Was it a freak of nature? Of course it is, it's a duck, Jace thought venomously. Jumping quickly to his feet, Jace snatched up one of his blades. "Stay here, Max." And then, with his heart pounding against his chest like a running horse on cement, he set off toward the loathsome bird.

The duck charged.

Crying out at the stupid birds boldness, Jace only barely had enough time to dive to the side as the duck flew past him. It was angrily squawking as its long wings clipped his leg. Jace shuddered repulsively. Rolling on the ground, he popped up to his feet and turned to face the hateful thing once more. The duck had turned to face Jace as well, lowering its creepy head and—seriously did you just swipe your foot across the ground? I thought only bulls did that. With the blade held in his hand, Jace gestured at the bird. Lets go, asshole.

And then a short dark haired boy shot between the two of them. Max was holding his side, dying with laughter as he called for the two of them to stop. "Jace," he wheezed between his laughing fit. "I didn't—I didn't think you were being serious about the ducks!"

But, "Get that duck away from me!" was all Jace could think to say in response, and the severity of his high pitched tone when he said it was not lost on him. Thank the Angel Clary's not here.

"Okay," Max laughed, waving Jace away. "Hold on." And then he turned toward the duck and Jace gasped.

"Don't go near it!" he called after his brother with terror. "It might . . . it might . . ."

"Beak me to death?" Max giggled. "Yeah, yeah . . . I'll be careful!" And then he turned his back on Jace and marched directly up to the duck, who looked like it had lowered its head shamefully in Max's towering presence. Jace on the other hand, was torn between snatching his little brother out of danger and the fact that to do so would mean approaching the foul creature.

"Now listen here, Mr. Duck," Max said sternly. "I don't know what you're doing by trying to scare—" Max began laughing before composing himself. "Trying to scare my—" Laughter again. Somehow Jace knew he was never going to live this down. And then Max straitened to his full height, which still wasn't very tall. "Just knock it off, okay?" He burst out.

The duck, however, quaked indignantly, and Jace found himself hollering. "I did not start it! You started it!" Max turned around, his brow arching as he stared at his brother like he was nuts. Behind him the bird flapped his wings rudely at Jace. "Did you see that?" Jace pointed. "He . . . he gave me the bird!"

Max completely lost it. "Jace, he is a bird!" he said, choking on his laughter before turning back to the stupid ugly duck. "And you! Go on, go." he shooed the duck away with his arms. "Get out of here and leave my . . . and leave . . ." Max could barely speak through his laughter. "Oh, just go on and leave."

And the duck left, turning and flipping its tail at Jace—yeah, same to you buddy, it disappeared back into the bushes at the same moment that Max fell to his knees, howling as the laughter became too much to bear.

Pulling his shoulders back, and trying to salvage what was left of his dignity, Jace approached his little brother. "If you tell anyone about this, I may be forced to kill you. Or at the very least, use a rune to seal your mouth." This only made Max laugh harder; but somehow, between the gasps and wheezes and howls, he managed to sputter out a promise that Jace's secret was safe with him. Shaking his head, he reached down and picked his brother up off the ground and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Slowly, they began the long trek back to the Penhallows.

Back inside Alicante, they raced again. Jace watched with amusement as his kid brother took the lead, and bounded up the back steps and inside the house. "I won!" He shouted, as Jace closed the door behind them.

"No one liked a braggart," Jace said sternly, though he couldn't help but smile as his kid brother went to the fridge and pulled out a bowl of cut up mango's.

"Want one?" he offered as he popped one in his mouth. But at that moment, Aline walked in and leaned against the doorframe. Her shirt was unbuttoned, showing off slightly too much cleavage—though if Jace were in his right mind, he might have thought it was a perfect amount of cleavage. Biting the inside of his cheek, he tried to keep his face neutral as he met Aline's dark eyes. He was going to have to end whatever this was. He just hoped it wouldn't be too hard for her.

Ruffling Max's hair, he smiled "No thanks, kiddo. But I had a blast today."

"Me too." Max said with a grin. "Do you want to do something else?"

"Actually, I have something I need to do in the study," Jace smiled, while throwing a suggestive glance at Aline, who smiled and nodded and slipped out of the room unseen by Max.

"Oh," his kid brother frowned. "Want me to come?"

Jace sighed. "Not this time, Max. I got some grown-up stuff to take care of. But when I'm done, you can have me for the rest of the day. Promise."

Max seemed to perk up a bit at this. "Okay. Well, I'll go read one of my books. But first, food." And Jace laughed as Max turned back toward the fridge, remembering how hungry he used to get after training. "You'll come find me when you're done?" his little brother's muffled voice called out.

"You got it, kiddo."

And then, with a deep breath, Jace left the kitchen and ran smack into Isabelle. "Where have you been?" she demanded, her hands on her hips. "Don't answer that," she cut him off before he even had a chance to open his mouth, and Jace raised a brow. "Aline told me—and you're lucky she did."

"Well, I'm glad she told you." Jace said blankly. "It was sort of a spur of the moment thing." And then he thought of about a thousand different things he could say, but he knew all of them would simply be said in an effort to stall from having to talk to the girl he knew was waiting for him upstairs. Instead he sighed. "I'm going to talk to Aline in the study, and—"

Izzy's eyes lit up, grinning. "Is that what we're calling it these days?"

Oh shut up. Jace rolled his eyes. "And I just thought you should know that Max might be attempting to eat the entirety of the fridge."

"I am not!" came the muffled sound of Max from the other room. Along with something that sounded suspiciously like the word "traitor."

Both Jace and Isabelle laughed before she pushed her way past Jace and made her toward the kitchen. Stopping in the archway, Iz looked back at Jace, a smile playing on her lips. "Don't worry . . . I'll make sure you two have some privacy." And with that, she winked and disappeared.

Shaking his head, Jace trudged up the back stairs and dragged his feet down the hallway toward the study; pushing open the door as if it weighed a ton.

What the . . . It was all he had time to think before he was knocked backward. Aline was in his arms, her face slamming painfully into his as her nose poked him in the eye. By the Angel, what . . . And then her mouth began to practically eat his lips, effectively tearing him away from any thought he might have conjured. The force of it, of her bowling into him, was what had shoved him backward. And his back hit the door, forcefully slamming it shut as he caught her. But just as quickly as it had started, it ended. Looking absolutely terrified, her cheeks flushed beet red, Aline backed away quickly. Her eyes were as wide as his felt. What the shit was that?

"By the Angel," she said, rubbing her nose. "I'm sorry. That's not quite how I pictured that going!"

Jace, who was rubbing at his eye, tried to smile. "Um . . . it's okay?"

"It's just," she continued hastily, "I didn't think you were going to kiss me." She was pacing the floor now. "And well, how could you move on if you broke up with me before you even kissed me?"

Jace bit the inside of his cheek. "Well," he mused, following the obviously very embarrassed Aline further into the room while trying to ignore the stinging in his eye. "If I were going to kiss you, I doubt it would have been like that."

"I'm know," Aline said wretchedly. "I promise, I'm usually much better at it. It's just . . . You're not usually the type I kiss."

Jace laughed at that; part of him wanting to ask what type it was that she did kiss, and the other part feeling it was none of his business. And she was still pacing. Taking pity on her, he shot his hand out to stop her and pulled her against his chest for a hug. She was sweet. And in another life, she might have even been perfect for him. Besides, all she had wanted to do was help him move on. That was all. But she also seemed to know—Jace frowned down at her. "How did you know?" he asked out loud. "That I was going to try to end our kinda-sorta relationship?"

At that, Aline wrapped her arms tentatively around his waist. "It's a bit obvious," she breathed with shaky laughter. "I mean . . . I don't blame you. I said I wouldn't. And I don't think it would would have work out between us anyway. But I mean . . . we hadn't even kissed yet! So I thought that maybe it would help if we had." He felt her shake her head. Tightening his arms around her, he couldn't help but to sigh. He also couldn't help but to think of how wrong she felt against him—and how right her words were. Short of holding hands, they really hadn't done much to attempt a real relationship. Not that it was her fault. It was his. All his. "Look, Jace, I get it. Whoever this girl was—"

Grabbing her face, Jace pressed his lips against hers, feeling as her mouth opened in surprise before she relaxed into it. Snaking his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer, his tongue sweeping along her lower lip before darting into her mouth. And Aline, she didn't pull away. With her arms traveling up Jace's chest, she locked them around his neck, her lips working with his. But it was all wrong. All of it. She didn't taste right. She was too tall. She didn't smell like lavenders or—Jace pressed himself harder into the kiss, willing it to be right. To feel right. Tried to let it consume him like when he was kissing Clary. But no matter what he did, Aline just wasn't—

The sound of the door slamming shut ripped them apart, and Jace felt his stomach drop as horror gripped his every being. No, no, no! He felt like he was drowning, trying desperately to drag in breath, but unable to. Please, God, no. Standing in front of them, staring at them in shock and horror and pain . . . so much pain that it ripped Jace apart piece by piece, were the Idris eyes he would know anywhere. Clary. But it was impossible. It couldn't be! No, no, no . . . you're supposed to be in New York! And yet she wasn't. Dear God, she wasn't.

She was here, and so very, very real.

AN: I know it's a shorter chapter, but I hope you guys liked it! I always wanted to give Max some time because well . . . you all know why. Anyhoo, a big monstrous thank you as always to my readers! You guys rock!

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